


waiting for headlights

by liesmith



Series: stray (fake chop) [14]
Category: Cow Chop, The Creatures | Cow Chop RPF
Genre: Fake Chop, FakeChop, M/M, drunk dumbass breaks into local succulent orphange, welcome to............... alechundarhd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: fences are fucking stupidormaybe it's just him who is fucking stupid





	waiting for headlights

jumping the fence to get into brett’s tiny, shitty little succulent filled home was an occurrence that was happening more than aleks wanted to admit. have a fight with james, drop mishka off at a neighbor, and then go to brett’s. get too drunk, let james know over misspelled texts that he wasn’t coming home, and.

go to brett’s.

he really needed more friends.

tonight’s not any different. him and james yelled at each other for a couple of hours on and off over something his drunk mind couldn’t remember and aleks struggles, more then usual, to get over brett’s fence. why the fuck did he invest in a nice fence and not a shitty chain link like everyone else in los angeles? like he had to worry about a dog or something escaping. plants don’t move.

still, he struggles over the fence and doesn’t quite land as smooth as he wants too. aleks stumbles forward a little bit, hands outward to catch himself and when he manages to steady, when he rises, he’s staring at a gun in his face.

oh man. this is foreplay, but not the kind aleks was necessarily looking for.

but behind the gun isn’t brett, but a younger man. he looks cozy in his hoodie and hat and looks bored out of his fucking mind.

“uh,” aleks starts, hands up as his eyes unfocus from the gun and focus on the other, “you’re not brett.”

“yeah, i’m not. what’re you doing?”

aleks feels kind of chided, like he’s back at school and getting lectured over falling asleep. “i came to see brett, who you still aren’t. who are you, dude?”

“who are you?”

aleks mind goes. does brett call him aleks to other people or is it sasha? does james even say his name to other people? his mind races before the guy clears his throat and aleks remembers, right, the gun in his face, should take care of that before he lets himself disappear into his troubled identity. “aleksandr.”

he takes the risk of his real name and the man pauses, tilts the gun as if he can’t see aleks good enough over it, and then lowers it. “oh. you’re the cow chop idiot.”

“wow,” aleks says, trying not to let the hurt leak into his voice. he wonders if that’s just how the man perceives him or if brett really thinks of him like that. the cow chop idiot, “you still didn’t tell me who you are.”

“alec.”

alec. brett never mentioned an alec. brett didn’t mention many of his friends, though. aleks just knew of them because he was obnoxious and demanding. enough of his drunk mind supplies to him that alec is not part of haus or pine, and he’s certainly not part of chop, so…

“how do you know brett?”

“because i do,” alec is already turning around, leaving aleks to stand there like an idiot, “why do you jump his fence?”

“i told you, dude, i wanted to see him. where is he?” not knowing where brett is slightly more anxiety inducing. normally, brett tells him when he’ll be gone, for how long, and sometimes where he’ll be. but this isn’t normal, so drunk brain decides brett’s being held hostage, and he has to free him from this alec dude.

this alec dude with a sweet hoodie. aleks is jealous.

he stumbles after the other, somehow still wobbly, and gradually walks like a somewhat normal person. “where’s brett?” aleks repeats, louder, as if alec was deaf and didn’t hear it the first go.

“he’s not here.”

“thanks. where is he?”

“out.”

“fuck!” aleks shouts, suddenly, banging his fist on his open palm, and… missing. hits his fingers instead, and he tries again, and gets it right this time, “dude, where the fuck is brett?”

alec is unphased, though he gives aleks the saddest one-over in the world, a hand against his mouth and pointer finger against his cheek. “if he didn’t tell you, then he doesn’t want you to know. what’s the big deal?”

because i like him? aleks wants to say, but then realizes he doesn’t need to spill his convoluted relationships and feelings to a stranger. “he just… tells me. always.”

“maybe he forgot,” alec turns again and leaves aleks standing in the hallway. the brunet just listens to the footsteps and a couple of seconds later the television is on. the noise is low enough to be just that distracting that when he pulls his phone out, he drops it a couple of times before aleks firmly grasps it, brows furrowed as he stares down at his phone.

_whr u_

_wo is lec_

_aelc_

_alec_

**Are you drunk?**

**I went to do something. Why are you in my house?**

_r u rplecin me?_

aleks is drunk enough to give into his crumbling self esteem, looking towards the direction of the living room. brett… came after him, brett wouldn’t just leave him, right? maybe coming here drunk was a bad idea, but aleks was really full of those, and he liked his ideas. he was usually the only one, though.

**Go home, Aleks.**

he wants to fight that, for sure, but this has really knocked all the energy out of him. not that aleks was that high energy to begin with, especially in this mood, but this is making him feel like he’s drowning, sluggish as aleks takes a few steps forward, lays a hand on the hallway wall, and looks at alec.

he’s stretched out on brett’s couch, feet on the coffee table, arms over his chest as he just… watches television. just fucking watches teevee like he forgot all about the drunk fence jumper in the hall.

aleks wishes that was him.

instead, he just goes to brett’s room and kicks his sneakers off, tries to be a good boy, and just crawls onto the bed. bit by bit the drunk is disappearing and leaving a throbbing in his skull and aleks is just fine, lying here and falling asleep, and maybe when he wakes up brett will be here. will have always been here. aleks could have totally had a really lucid dream or something. whatever the fuck lucid dreams are, at least.

when morning comes, he is right about one of those things.

brett is there, looming over him, hands on his hips like a shitty mom. aleks just covers his head with his arms, curling up on his side.

“i’m going to try and be nice,” brett starts, though his tone doesn’t sound it, “because you’re hungover. what are you doing, aleks?”

aleks just whimpers. brett continues on, clearly taking that as the brunet’s answer. “why can’t you ever ask if i’m home?”

“you always tell me when you go away,” aleks croaks, swallowing a couple of times in a desperate attempt to coat his throat, “but you didn’t.”

“you don’t always need to know. sometimes a guy goes home for a day and comes back to an alcoholic in his bed.”

aleks whimpers again. brett just sighs, pushing at his shoulder. “stop it. go clean up. you’re pathetic.”

brett’s right about that, at least. aleks waits until he’s gone before he gets up, shuffling slow to the bathroom. he does, as well as he can, clean up as told to. aleks briefly thinks about putting his clothes back on, but after a minor sniff to his shirt, he realizes it just reeks of cigarettes. nice. he decides to go with brett’s things and is less than modest as he leaves the bedroom, though brett’s old shirts he uses for the gym are long enough to cover his bottom, which he’s hiking briefs slightly too large up every couple of steps.

aleks regrets his wardrobe choice immediately when he sees alec, still on the couch, though he’s asleep. idiot. dummy. of course he’d still be here. brett’s in the kitchen and aleks drifts towards there, deciding to get in his way as much as possible. arms wrap around brett’s chest and he squishes his cheek between the other’s shoulder blades, denying brett some movement. he grunts but doesn’t wiggle or push aleks away, merely messing with his coffee machine for the time being.

“m’sorry,” aleks starts softly, tightening his hold on brett briefly before relaxing again, “whose alec?”

“he’s someone i know. i asked him to watch the house for the day. i didn’t know i’d be back so soon.”

“why’s he mean?”

brett laughs, reaching up to pat aleks’ hands with his empty mug. “he’s not mean, he’s, uh… bored. bored is a good way to put it.”

bored. aleks just frowns. bored men in this business were never good. they could be unpredictable, though… that was just sometimes. he didn’t push it, leaning on his tiptoes just slightly to kiss brett’s cheek, rub against the scraggle of his beard. “i should put on pants.”

“probably,” brett agrees, reaching behind him and blindly swatting at aleks’ ass, missing and getting his hip instead, “don’t be a bad host.”

aleks just scowls and then stops. just makes his head hurt more. instead he pulls away and creeps back to brett’s room, digging around in his things before he finds a pair of shorts that will fit enough for now, retreating back to the kitchen to only do the same annoying thing and plaster himself to brett, though aleks is a little more lenient on letting brett move around to cook.

even hungover, aleks is still full of really terrible and bad ideas. they just don’t stop. he shifts and moves with brett, glancing towards the living room.

bored men were bad for business, but bored men could make things fun.

they could use a bored man.

**Author's Note:**

> i forgot a fucking summary!


End file.
